


First Times

by blarghe



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Love, M/M, Multi, Pining, Polyamory, Sexual Tension, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:49:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25107256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blarghe/pseuds/blarghe
Summary: The friendship that forms between Alistair, Zevran and Violet on the road is a natural, easy thing. The love story that comes out of it is not the one that Alistair expected, but it feels right.A fic about Ali's first kiss(es) and relationships that are just comfy.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Zevran Arainai, Zevran Arainai/Female Warden
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12
Collections: ZevWarden Week 2020





	First Times

Alistair has never felt about anyone the way he feels about Violet. She is beautiful, funny, smart and so skillful. She fights like a tactician; efficient, full of tricks. He wishes he could talk to her of weaponry and poisons, traps and explosives, the way that Zevran does. He should be jealous of the assassin, and he is indeed suspicious, but Zevran makes him laugh, reaches out with comradery that feels real. He sees it when Zevean flirts with Violet, he feels it when she flirts back. But he feels it too when Zevran offers him a pat on the back, a playful nudge, a shoulder to lean on after a long day.

Violet flirts with him even after he knows she has been in Zevran’s tent. The two rogues stop their flirtations for a while, and much later she refers to this as the time she courted _him_.

He doesn’t know why his friends have stopped visiting one another’s tents, but nothing else changes as the days go on. Violet touches his arm when they talk, seeks him out to be the audience to her jokes, listens to his thoughts. She tells him more about who she is, he hears her heartache and his heart _breaks_.

She comforts him when he feels alone, makes him believe that their quest can succeed. She takes his hand sometimes, kisses him on the cheek.

The most comfortable way to end the day, is leaning on Zevran, entangled with Violet. Alistair can’t be bothered to feel flustered when he is tired. Violet always finds a way to spread over them, and he pulls them both close to keep warm by the fire. It feels relaxing to have both of them nearby. During the day, sometimes he catches himself looking at Zevran and he wonders. He looks at Violet and he knows.

When Alistair is nervous about his feelings he talks to Zevran, he knows he shouldn’t, but Zev is so understanding, and he is also so _smooth_. He is getting more used to leaning against Zevran’s body at the fireside with Violet in his lap. As he asks for help, he is remembering how secure it feels between them both.

Zevran gives him advice freely, tells him he sees how he and Violet cherish one another.

“Do not be afraid to kiss her, here, you may practice on me!” No expectations or intentions, he teases, but his smile is hopeful.

At first, Alistair scoffs. But then, he wonders, could he?

“May – may I?”

Zevran smiles and leans into him, leads him to his mouth with the breath if a kiss. Zevran’s lips pull lightly at his. They stop for one heartbeat of a moment - Zev’s lips are soft and full - and then fall away. It feels like flying

Violet looks at him and his heart stops. She gives him a playful kiss on the cheek, he gives her a rose.

She kisses him deeply, arms pulling him down to her, pressing her whole body into his. It feels like an embrace around his soul.

They lean on one another in the evenings. Violet takes him to bed. He is in love with her. He is in love with her. He is in love with her. He is –

He is leaning between Zevran’s legs, and Zevran strokes his hair. Violet looks up from his lap, and suggests they go to bed together with all the tact of a sailor. Zevran grins, answers smoothly: he’s game.

Alistair’s skin is hot. His blood is rushing through his temples, down his body. He is thinking about Zevran’s kiss, and his legs, and how he feels in the crook of his arm by the fire after a long day: hard, strong, but lean.

He thinks about Violet’s gasps when he lies with her; her smooth skin and soft curves, her kisses on his neck.

Violet squeezes his hand. “No pressure, I love you.”

“You know Alistair, I care for you as well.” Zevran says with ease, “I may tease, but I would never truly wish to make you uncomfortable”

No. The three of them like this? That _is_ his comfort. He wants Zevran’s fingers in his hair, Violet’s head in his lap.

“I am comfortable.” He says, as if it is an excuse not to get up. “If you move from that spot I’ll have nothing to lean on. Merry makes a far worse pillow.” He cracks a very poor joke, and Zevran chuckles.

They sit watching the fire for a while, and in the silence he pictures it. Violet notices him growing from where she lies in his lap, subtly places a hand beneath the waist of his trousers, resting gently on his hip.

He wants her, he wants them both. He swallows, decides to be brave

“I’m comfortable.” He says again.


End file.
